Healing A Broken Past
by Lily1186
Summary: A young healer with no past is run out of her home by a group of soldiers. While dealing with the loss of the brother she had to leave behind, Lillian runs into the Fellowship in the winderness. Rated R for later chapters.
1. Default Chapter

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Disclaimer/Authors Note: Any reviews are appreciated or helpful hints on how to improve the story. Not really sure where this might go, but I can tell you it will be a Legolas/Lillian(i.e. Anaraisiliel) fic. All characters, besides the ones that are mine (i.e. Lillian, Dorwin, etc.), belong to Tolkien. Any names, or such, included. Alright, here goes...

Summary: A young healer with no past is run out of Gondor by a group of soldiers, leaving her younger brother behind. On her way through the wilderness she runs into the Fellowship. Her adventure begins with a run in with an elf.

Pairings: Legolas/Lillian, Aragorn/Arwen, and Dorwin/Tinathowen

* Means that it is translated from either Elvish, or Rohirrim language.

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Preface: The Beginning of it all

The noon day bell rang out over the city as the sun continued to shine down on the cobbled streets. The city was alive with activity as people bustled about trying to complete their day's duties. Suddenly, through the happy murmurings and joyful laughter that filled the streets, a horn sounded across the plain. The talking died down, and the people turned their eyes toward the large wooden gates that stood as the entrance to the city. 

The horn sounded again, and this time two guards could be seen making there way toward the gate at a steady pace. Once the reached the doors the tallest guard signaled to a man on the tower to open the gate. Almost immediately the doors began to open and the shadow that they cast was pushed aside. A little ways down the plain a small cavalry of horses was steadily making there way closer. 

A few moments later they were stopped and questioned by the guards from the tower and pointed in the direction up the hill. A few men stayed behind with some of the horses while the others made their way up the road. A distinct feeling of unease swept through the town, as a man could be seen being carried between a few of his fellow soldiers up the road. What no one took notice of, was a small boy running up the hill ahead of them as fast as his legs could carry him.

Meanwhile, near the top of the hill, a young girl around the age of nineteen was putting the last ingredients into a vial to complete her sleeping drought. She smiled proudly as she held the small bottle up to the light and moved it slowly from side to side. She stood up from her chair and was just about to place the vial into an open cupboard when a young boy burst through the door yelling, "Lalaith! Lalaith! Soldiers are coming!" 

The pride that Lalaith had been feeling quickly shattered as her vial slipped out of her hands and broke open on the floor. She cursed slightly before turning to glare at her new guest. 

"Vinyaithil*, how many times have I told you not to frighten me so." Vinyaithil lowered his eyes and began to grind his big toe into the ground. "I'm sorry Layla, it's just that, I thought you would want to know that there are soldiers in the city." Lalaith sighed heavily as she felt her anger edge away at the sight of Vinyaithil's guilt. 

"It's all right Ithil, you need not feel guilty. It was my own mistake for being so easily frightened. So tell me, why is it so important for me to know that there are soldiers in the city? Are they lighting houses on fire?" 

Ithil's head titled slightly in confusion. "No, no fires." "Then why is it that you come calling?" Ithil's face lit up as if he had gotten a new toy. "Because they are coming here Layla!" Lalaith's face paled slightly and she made her way quickly towards the door. A group of 6 or more soldiers was slowly making there way up the hill towards the hut. 

"Oh dear" Lalaith muttered. She placed her hands firmly on Vinyaithil's shoulders and blocked the doorway into the hut. When the soldiers finally arrived this was the sight that their eyes were met with. 

A stocky guard stepped forward and bowed slightly before asking, "is this the house of Lady Lillian Celos*?" 

For a moment Lalaith simply looked at him defiantly. Then she took a breath and replied, "maybe it is, who shall I say is asking for her?" The guard took a step backwards and pointed toward the group of soldiers seemingly bending over something. Lalaith stood her ground and waited for the guard to say something else. 

"Tell her, a man in dire need of help is asking." At that, the group broke apart slightly and a man could be seen being held up by two of his friends in the midst of the other soldiers. A small gasp escaped her lips as she held a hand to her chest. 

A small pool of blood could be seen at the foot of the injured man. Lalaith quickly moved aside and rushed toward the back room. The sound of movement could be heard and hushed talking. 

The soldiers made their way into the first room and set their man down on a make shift bed in the corner. A slight moaning could be heard as the man was finally settled. 

A few moments later, Lalaith entered with a few wet towels and bowl of water. She pushed aside a few of the soldiers and made her way to the cot. As she set the bowl down, a shorter soldier grabbed onto her arm and asked roughly, "Are you the Lady Lillian or not?" 

Lalaith pulled her arm away and scowled up at the man. She noticed a few abrasions on him as well before focusing her eyes back on the man in front of her. As she reached for a piece of cloth, the soldier grabbed her arm again and practically shouted, "Did you not hear me you stupid wench! Where is Lady Lillian?!" 

This time Lalaith did not have to pull her arm away. The soldier quickly let her go, covering it with a piece of his sleeve so as to stop the bleeding that was now coming from a wound on the top of it. Almost immediately, a resonating voice sounded from behind them and the soldiers in the room quickly turned round to see who was speaking. 

A tall, thin, young women was seen standing with a knife in her right hand, a slight tinge of red visible on the tip. She took a step forward and said quite plainly, "That is not Lady Lillian, I am. And if you don't want to lose your hand I suggest you keep it to yourself." 

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Translations:

*Lalaith = 'Laughter'

*Vinyaithil = 'New moon'

*Celos = 'Flowing Snow'

Alright, tell me what you think, please! Try and be nice!


	2. A Man Down

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Author's Note: Alright, here's chapter 1. It might be a little slow on the upstart but I promise I'll try to make it really good next chapter. 

Author's Note 2: If I mess up on something, like with inaccuracies and such, just leave it in your review. I promise to read them all and make appropriate changes. Thanks! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All characters; besides the ones that are mine (i.e. Lillian, Dorion, etc.), belong to Tolkien. Any names, or such, included. Alright, here goes...

Summary: A young healer with no past is run out of Gondor by a group of soldiers, leaving her younger brother behind. On her way through the wilderness she runs into the Fellowship. Her adventure begins with a run in with an elf.

Pairings: Legolas/Lillian, Aragorn/Arwen, and Dorion/Tinathowen

* Means that it is translated from either Elvish, or Rohirrim language.

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Chapter 1: A Man Down

For a moment no one said anything. A few men stood in shock, while others were merely in awe. It was clear that no one had heard anyone enter the room, and the girl's mere presence sent an uneasy chill through the air. 

After the first few moments of shock wore off, a new emotion began to settle in. Anger. The fact that she had attacked one of their men after they had come looking for help set nerves on edge, not to mention the fact that she was a girl. And a young, pretty one at that. 

Many of the men had even begun reaching for their own knives or swords. The tension was mounting higher by the moment.

The young woman however, merely stood stock still in her place occasionally glancing around, uninterested yet alert. The muscles in her shoulder were poised and ready to strike if the occasion called for it. 

Sensing the impending disaster, Lalaith stood up from her spot on the floor. The girl, noticing the movement focused her eyes in that direction. Lalaith shook her head gently and looked down at the cot. The girl followed her eyes and placed her knife in the pocket of her tearing skirt. This action appeased the soldiers as they soon followed suit. 

"I apologize for my ill temper gentlemen. It is just, I'm not used to a horde of men standing in my house threatening my friends." Her eyes made a quick movement towards the man's bleeding hand before they darted back to the cot.

"No my lady, you must accept our apologies. We do not typically show our hosts such disrespect. We are tired and hurt, though that is no excuse for our behavior."

The young woman's eyes softened and she took a step forward. "It is plenty of an excuse. Now, tell me, why have you come here?" 

The soldier's eyes filled with pain for a moment before they cleared, and he turned his attention to the cot. "Our friend was badly injured. He fell off of his horse after sustaining a knife wound. We think he may have broken something. We brought him here in hopes that someone could heal him." He turned back to look at the girl, and a strange sense of sadness filled his eyes. It was as if he didn't think his friend could be saved.

For a moment the girl just stood there in concentration. After a few moments an angry growl-like sound filled the room. "We do not need this witch! We will find help elsewhere, Arvagor*." 

With that said, the soldier moved toward the cot, and reached his uninjured hand out to try and pick up his friend. But the determined voice of his comrade stopped him in his tracks. "No Anghir*, leave him." 

For a moment Anghir's face tinged with red, before it disappeared and all that was left was a sour look. He took his hand off of his friend and grasped back onto his own, trying to still the blood that still flowed from his own hand. 

The young girl nodded her approval to Arvagor before making her way to the cot. 

Lalaith was once again kneeling on the floor, taking bits of cloth and changing them periodically from the place on the soldier's forehead. A sheen of sweat had started to form and his body had begun to shake slightly. 

Lalaith stilled her hand before motioning quietly to the girl to bend over, before whispering into her ear, "I think he's going into shock." The girl nodded slowly. She bent down carefully and took the piece of cloth from Lalaith's outstretched hand. She placed it carefully onto his neck, making sure not to put pressure down on any open wounds. 

Leaning over she whispered something into Lalaith's ear. For a second Lalaith hesitated before nodding slowly. She stood up and faced the worried soldiers. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you all to leave now." Almost instantly an outraged murmur broke out among the group. Hostilities began to rise again. As if sensing the anger, the girl on the floor immediately struck back with some of her own. 

"If you do not want your friend to die, then I suggest you all get out!" This caused more murmurings and an angry Lalaith to hiss, "Lillian!" Lalaith turned around again and motioned with her hands for quiet. "I'm sorry about her, but she speaks the truth. We need room to work, so if you'll please just wait outside..." she trailed off once she saw that the men were moving towards the door. Murmurings could still be heard, and angry glances were being directed at Lillian, but everyone complied peaceably. 

Once they were gone, Lalaith settled herself back onto the floor. Lillian looked at her with a small smile and a mischievous look in her eye. "We need room to work?" Lalaith sighed openly before hitting her in the arm playfully. "Well, I do get the bottles for you, you know?" Lillian laughed softly, and Lalaith smiled. It always sounded like a beautiful instrument was being played whenever Lillian laughed. 

She stood up once again and stretched her arms. "So, what do you need?" A small frown pressed its way over Lillian's brow as she carefully tore off the soldier's shirt. A small gasp issued from behind her as Lalaith got a view of the gash along the soldiers left side. 

Lillian paid her no mind however as she carefully examined the cuts and possible breaks. She could feel at least two broken ribs and, along with the gash and other cuts, marked it up as about 12 total injuries. She turned to face her friend, and assistant and said gravely, "Give me the blue vial, and the green vial." As Lalaith headed toward the cupboard, Lillian called back, "Oh, and don't forget the Kingsfoil!" Lalaith shot her a piercing look before continuing onto the cupboard and retrieving the blue and green vials. 

As she made her way back towards the cot she muttered, "Forget the Kingsfoil, who does she think I am." Her footfalls died about halfway there though as she turned and quietly made her way back to the cupboard again. This time remembering to pick up the tiny leather satchel marked with a dried plant on the outside. 

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Translations:

*Arvagor = Royal Swordsman

*Anghir = Iron Lord

*Kingsfoil is what it is called around the city of Gondor. It is also known as Athelas. As if you guys didn't know that already though, right.


	3. Traitor in the Midst

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Chapter 2: Traitor in the midst

A/N: Sorry I haven't written in awhile, a lot of stuff has been going on. I'll try to post more regularly though. I hope you enjoy, and remember to read and review. Criticism is welcome as long as it is constructive!

Three days had passed since the soldier had arrived on her doorstep and he was still laying unconscious on her cot. Since then many of his fellow soldiers had come and gone as they pleased at all times throughout the day and night. Lillian did not mind though, she knew they were only worried about his well-being, even if they did tend to be a little drunk when they decided to wander in.

Late in the night of the third day Lillian heard a loud noise coming from the main room. Thinking it to be another drunken soldier she rolled over in her bed and closed her eyes breathing in the air. It smelled like rain was coming. Her pleasant thoughts were interrupted by a louder noise, one that sounded out of place from the noises the drunks usually made. Her eyes narrowed in the darkness and, as quiet as she could, she dressed. On the way out of her room she grabbed her dagger and treaded lightly towards the door.

As she entered the darkened room a shape moved in the corner. Bottles near the cot had been strewn across the floor and blankets lay askew near the predicted epicenter of the destruction. The cot itself was empty.

Another noise alerted her to the presence of a man hunkered down against the wall in the corner. The sounds that had awoken her seemed to be coming from the huddled shape. Abandoning all reasoning she made her past the glass shards and lit a candle that she had laid beside the cot earlier in the evening. Lighting it with the little fire that was left in the fireplace she aimed the flame into the corner. As soon as the light hit his face Lillian was by his side. She tried to put her arm underneath the wounded soldier to give herself some leverage to lift him, but the soldier protested violently by using his free hand to punch her in the jaw. The two of them fell to the floor, the soldier falling solidly onto Lillian as she tried to regain her sense of direction. Everything seemed to be spinning as she lay underneath the increasingly heavy man.

The soldier emitted another groan as he built up the strength to role onto his side. Lillian was to busy trying to get back her breath to notice.

Five minutes passed before Lillian felt it was safe enough for her to attempt speaking. What came out of her mouth was a hoarse noise that sounded like "oomph." She rubbed her jaw slightly and tried again. "Are you alright?" The young man looked at her out of the corner of his eye and appeared to be attempting to focus on her. He stopped trying when his attention was drawn to more important matters, the emptying of his already bare stomach. He choked a little as the smell of his own vomit hit him and he tried to turn away.

By now Lillian had recovered and was standing by his side ready to try and help him to his feet. Once again she was met with resistance. He shoved her hand away roughly and tried to back away across the ground. He was mumbling something unintelligible as he did so.

She stood there watching him for a moment for a new way to come at the situation. She finally decided on trying to speak to the man again. "I'm not going to hurt you. Please, just let me help you." She raised her hands in a gesture of surrender and took a step closer to validate her plea. For once he did not put up a fight as she lifted him. He was still mumbling when she laid him back onto the disheveled cot.

As soon as she had him settled she went back for the candle she had dropped during their fall. She hastily lit it again; and another one on the opposite side of the cot. What she saw in front of her was not an encouraging site. The soldier had broken out into a substantial sweat and the skin around his wounds was red and swollen. Lillian swore slightly under her breath and was about to proceed to the medicinal cabinet when the soldier latched tightly onto her right arm. She attempted to release his grip but the harder she tried the tighter his grip got. He had started mumbling loudly again and pulling her closer. She tried to pull back but he swung his other arm around and grabbed her by the hair. By now Lillian was losing her temper but she reminded herself that he was probably delusional from shock and must think she was someone else. She gently placed her hands on the side of his face and said a few calming words. His grip lessened but he did not release her. Lillian tried again with her soft words but she only got out a few choice ones before he began screaming at her. She tried to cover her ears; the sound was deafening. She caught something along the lines of, "Traitor!" and something about an ambush, before her vision began to blur from the rush of sound.

As suddenly as the man had begun screaming he stopped. Lillian opened her closed eyes, and slowly removed her hands from her ears. The soldier was mumbling again. This time however Lillian caught every word.

"You betrayed us. How could you do that, you were our brother in arms. Our brother!, did that mean nothing to you. Nothing!" His grip had tightened at his last word. Lillian gritted her teeth against the pain and tried to focus. All she could do to forget the throbbing in her arm, and the chaos in her mind was to listen to the beating of the rain on the ground outside her house. She hadn't even noticed that the previously foreseen rain had started, this disturbed her a little as she loved the sound the rain made in summer. But something wasn't right. The rain didn't sound as friendly as it was supposed to. The grass wasn't as welcoming. There was a presence somewhere that had interrupted the beauty of the moment. Her gaze moved as much as it could in the soldiers unceasing grip. The sound of thunder and a flash of lightening seemed to give a brief glimpse of a darkened form outside her door. But as quickly as she had seen it the shape had disappeared. Nothing was left outside but the dampened grass and the rushing mud.

She averted her gaze back to the sickened soldier. His grip had let up enough so that she could free her head from his hands. He was still mumbling silently as he began his journey into slumber. His last word before he drifted off to sleep was.....

"Anghir."

Outside the hut a darkened shape pushed itself away from the wall of the house. It made its way carefully along the mud soaked path until it reached the bottom of the incline. There it stopped and gazed back at the house on the hill. Another flash of lightening revealed a wide smile that was soon replaced by a dark look of malice. "I'm afraid that will cost you both" it whispered into the night, before pulling up its hood and making its way back through the streets.


End file.
